Mistletoe
by PrussianCross
Summary: Confessions, Cookies, and Sex. Sounds like a Wonderful Christmas. (WARNINGS: Lots of untranslated Spanish, Lemon, BoyLove.)


HIYA! I'm back with LEMONS ^/^ enjoy!

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Romano kneeled down in his tomato feild, inspecting the produce, frowning. "Stupid weather. ruining my tomatos." he huffed, standing up, picking up the basket at his feet, shouting, "Oi! Spanish Basterd! What have you been doing to my plants!"

The 'Spanish bastard' in question opened an eye and looked over at his irate lover before stretching and getting up from his spot on the ground. It wasn't snowing - too warm for that at his house, usually - but it was unseasonably cold even for Christmas morning. "Roma, I haven't done anything to the plants! I even watered them like you said I should yesterday." he answered, wrapping an arm around the shorter nation's waist and nuzzling his cheek. "It's not my fault it's so cold. We can have dinner without tomatoes this year, if we need to." Romano sputtered and blushed, pushing the spaniard away roughly. "Get off! And are you crazy? We can't eat without tomatos! Stupid!" He huffed, carring the few tomatos he found in his basket to the house. "Hurry up Basterd! Its fucking cold and I'm hungry!"

The larger nation chuckled and shook his head with a grin, amused by the brunette's reactions. "Ah, he's just so cute." he said to himself. He was on his way out of the garden when he spotted a bright red tomato hiding under a leaf. "Hmm? How'd little Romano miss you?" he asked the fruit as he plucked it from the plant. He nodded after a second as though he'd gotten a response. "Si, si, he is energetic! He'll be happy to have you for dinner, I'm sure."

The Spaniard happily entered the house then, smiling as he heard Romano in the kitchen washing his favorite fruits. "I found another friend of yours!" he chirped, offering up the tomato. Romano turned and stared, as if heisitant to take it since it was the brunette offering it to him. After a split second he took it gently, and started washing it as well. "Grazie. Make some of your ... whatever the fuck it is you make, huh? As long as you don't mess with my things. Got it?" He had a scowl on his face, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"S, Romano. Qu tal unos paella bien caliente? Creo que tenemos suficiente arroz para que..." the Spaniard happily replied, a smile on his face. He leaned down and pecked the smaller male on the lips before turning and heading to the pantry. "Arroz, arro, arroz... Dnde est el arroz?" he asked aloud, pushing boxes and bags aside. Romano blushed again, "Ah, bastardo pervertito!" He squeaked, before mumbling, "Il riso nel mobile alto, stupido." He finished the tomatos, before setting them out and slicing them up with an expert ease.

The Spaniard heard his lover and grabbed the rice from the top shelf, brushing off the insult easily. "Lo encontr!" he said happily. He quickly had water boiling and the other paella ingredients on his counter to be seasoned. "Romano, le gustara que he hecho algunos polvorones, o vino de rosquillos para esta noche?" Romano rolled his eyes, "I don't care. And stop talking in that stupid language! You know I never learned it right, since your a horrible teacher." He puffed out his cheeks, making his traditional cookies as well, the Buccellati, Panettone, Pandoro, Torrone. He used his tomatos instead of the oranges on the Panettones, as well as making a sauce for all of them. Antonio just watched the Italian for a moment before getting back to work on his own dish. It wasn't until he'd already seasoned the chicken and fish for his paella that he remembered a very important ingredient. "Roma, how many tomatoes do we have to cook with? I need one for paella rice and don't feel like trying to find a store that's open." the Spaniard finished, throwing his lover a grin over his shoulder. Romano didn't answere, though his eye twitched at the 'Roma', and just pushed the basket with 3 tomatos left in it, towards the Spaniard, muttering something under his breath about, 'fucking spanish food'. He brushed his hair back with a nonchalant sigh, accidently smearing some food across his cheek.  
The larger nation smiled softly and grabbed one of the red fruits from the basket and setting it on the cutting board. "Gracias, Romano." He couldn't help but chuckle, though, at the food smeared across the Italian's face. The Spaniard gently grabbed the brunette's chin and used his thumb to wipe off the mess, sucking the sweet dough off of the digit. "So messy!" he laughed. The Italian blushed, giving the spaniard a small push, turning away, "Bastardo pervertito!" He hunced his shoulders, finishing what he needed and putting them all in the oven, muttering out the different times, and setting timers on his phone. "I'll be on the couch . . ."

Spain just shook his head and set his paella cooking, the rest of the ingredients needing some time to be ready for dinner. He was humming Christmas carols to himself as he finally finished preparing the dough for his own desserts and wandered into the living room where Romano was slumped on the sofa. "Quieres ver pelculas de Navidad, Romano?" the Spaniard asked cheerfully as he sat on the couch near his lover. Romano stared for a second, "As long as they arn't the ridculous ones from America." He stretched, moving closer to the spaniard as a shiver of cold ran down his spine, though he tried to make it not obvious. He shifted so he was laying his head on the Brunettes shoulder.

"Ni siquiera una Navidad de Charlie Brown?" the older nation asked good-naturedly, slipping an arm around the Italian. The Spaniard grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over the both of them before turning on the television and looking for a good movie.

The auburn nation's nose wrinkled. "Oh no. No thank you." he snickered, watching all the channels go by before smacking the other on the arm, "Oh! Vacanze di Natale '95! Watch that one!" He mocked glared at him. "por favor, Toni, voy a dejar de comer la primera galleta!" He stuttered out, using the Spanish that he did learn actually very well.  
Antonio was surprised at the fact that his little lover spoke in Spanish more than he was by the offer, and squeezed the Italian up in a hug before complying with his request. "S, s, que uno est bien! Romano suena tan lindo hablar espaol!" the brunette chirped as he nuzzled the Italian's neck. Romano squeeked, trying to get the brunettet off of him. "I'm not cute! I only spoke your stupid fucking language to get you to comply! GetOffOfMe!" He pushed at him till he knocked the Spaniard off the couch. He proceeded to spread out over the whole couch, glaring at the other before turning his attention to the tv.

Antonio stayed on the floor looking up at the Italian, his ever-present smile dimmer than usual. 'Incluso la Navidad, Romano? Supongo que no debe esperar nada diferente ms, pero...' When a beep from the kitchen caught his attention he pulled himself up and headed in to see what had set it off. The first batch of polovorones were finished and the brunette put some of the almond cookies on a plate for the younger nation and himself. Romano sat up on the couch, before getting up and poked his head in the kitchen, the blanket still around his shoulders. "Is it any of mine, Spagna?" He shuffled his feet before taking off the blanket and walking in the kitchen, his head slightly lowered, and sniffs. "Almonds? Mmm My favorite."

The Spaniard looked over at the Italian and shrugged. "No, it's just my polovorones." At the mention of almonds, the brunette couldn't help but tease the other. "Ah, s? Tu Pens que no le gustaba mi 'mierda forma de cocinar'." he said, thinking back to Romano's many 'Spanish crap' comments when Antonio cooked. Romano blushed. "No! Not your cooking, just that its not Italian. Your an excellent cook." He suddenly blushed harder, his curl twitching. "But your still a bastard!" He quickly shouted, turning and hurring out of the kitchen, grabbing the blanket and curlling himself into a ball under it, on the couch.

Antonio smiled to himself and followed quietly behind the flustered Italian, plate of cookies in hand. He grabbed one of the warm confections and waved it in front of where he knew Romano would be able to smell it best. "You don't like my paella, then? Or my almond cookies or macaroons? Not even my tomato dishes?" he asked teasingly as he sat back down on the couch. A hand snaked its way out of the blanket, grabbing a almond cookie and quickly retreated to the haven of the blanket. A loud mumble came from underneath the covers, sounding flustered but sincere.

Antonio pulled up a corner of the blanket and held another cookie out for the younger nation. "Come on, Romano...it's Christmas!" the Spaniard gently chided. 'S que no me odies tanto como usted dice. Romano, tu no quieres pasar la Navidad conmigo en todo?' The frazzled Italian sat up, taking the other cookie and nibbling it. "Christmas. Time for family to spend time together, yet I get only you. Even mio fratello dosent want to spend it with me." He flopped back down, but this time into Spain's lap, turning his head toward the tv. In between chewing and mumbled comments at the movie, "Sono molto contento, lo spreco su di me per."

Antonio frowned at that and hesitated before gently running his hand through the Italian's hair, avoiding his sensitive curl. "No seas ridculo. Usted sabe que Feli le encanta pasar tiempo con usted! Yo s que no te gusta Ludwig mucho, pero ... alguna vez has parado a pensar en lo feliz el hace tu hermano? Estoy seguro de que Feliciano slo quera pasar la Navidad con un amante." the Spaniard insisted as he watched the Italian in his lap a little sadly. "He odo que es una cosa bastante comn hacer."

"Trust me. If I didn't reliase how sickningly happy the Potato Bastard makes, mio fratello, then I wouldn't even let him out of the housr with him." He shrugged, and jumped a bit when his phone timer went off, "Ah, cookies!" He did his best impersionantion of a smile, (since he never smiles anyway), and got up, scuttling off to the kitchen to fetch his treats.

Spain let the other nation go, deciding to stay on the couch instead of following. 'Usualmente me siento tan bien en esta poca del ao, pero...despus de tanto tiempo yendo por este camino...su aversin slo parece ser ms fuerte...' The Spaniard glanced at the clock and sighed when he saw that it was only two in the afternoon. His eyes were drawn back to the kitchen door, through which he could hear the Italian moving things around. 'Maybe he'd be happier if he spent the holiday with Italy instead.'

The brunette grabbed his cell phone while his lover was distracted, dialing the German's house number. The southern Italian saw the other, dialing his phone and sighed, Estoy siempre lo arrastra lejos de sus amigos. . . l debe estar con otras personas, y no slo "mirar" por encima de m. He naturaly fely bad, and hated the fact that Antonio was to nice to refuse him, (though who knows what would happen if he did). He loved the spainard, even if he didn't show it full out. Sometimes though, he just craved the closeness of his brother, though recently it seemed nonexistant.

Antonio frowned when he didn't get an answer and hung up his phone with a huff. He couldn't just barge over there - even if Gilbert would be glad to see him, Ludwig certainly wouldn't like to be surprised - to let Romano spend time with his sibling. The brunette ran a hand through his hair as he thought, but couldn't come up with anything else he could do.

When he noticed the Italian in the door the Spaniard grinned and hoped he hadn't noticed anything. "I was thinking . . . maybe you could call Feli tomorrow and spend time together!" he lied, trying to cover for himself. "I know it's not as good as today, but it'll be close enough, s? And you always have New Year's!"

The Italian nodded slightly, before sitting down next to his lover, curling into him, and wrapping the blanket around them both. "Si, and you can hang out with those other perverts you call friends. " he nodded, as if pleased with his compromise.

Antonio smiled down at his lover before kissing him on the cheek. "Maybe. I can always visit Francis, too." he agreed. He turned to the movie and picked up the last almond cookie to nibble on. He'd have to make another batch if Romano wanted any, now. Romano's nose crunched up at the name. "Eewww. I'd take Potato Bastard 2 over that Fucking Frenchie any day." He stated, returning the kiss to the spanaird's cheek. "Why are you friends with him anyway?"

Spain thought it over before answering, choosing his words carefully. "He is...ah, how to say-? He is a good conversador when he wants to be. Besides, who else would I spend time with? Everyone else is so busy all the time. But Francis stops to talk to me, si? So, we are friends." the Spaniard concluded, happy with his explanation. He offered the last half of the almond cookie to his lover with a smile. "Everybody needs friends, Romano." Romano was silent chopping down on the cookie offered to him. "Yeah. But not everybody gets them, and some people just shouldn't have them." He tilted his head, thinking a bit, "Look at Russia, If he had friends, he wouldn't be fucking missing right now. But the only way for him to have friends are by his twisted means, which no one would want soooo . . . " He tilted his hands, acting them like they were a scale. "See my point?"

"Hmm...but perhaps Russia wouldn't be so 'twisted,' as you said, if he had had friends." the brunette answered back. Antonio watched his lover, content that the Italian didn't seem to be angry. That was practically jumping for joy compared to Romano's usual mood. "Just because someone might not deserve or have friends doesn't mean that they don't need them. That's why America likes attention and probably why Gilbert is always bragging - they need the company. See what I mean?"

The italian rolled his eyes, puffing out his cheeks and poking Spain on his. "Always gotta have the last word huh? Meanie." Poking the other again for good measure, before getting up and going into the kitchen, now that his cookies have cooled and started sparating them onto plates, and bags and such.

The Spaniard just chuckled and licked the tip of the finger before Romano could pull it away fully. "Que te gusta." he replied with a grin. The brunette followed his lover into the kitchen and sidled up behind him after he noticed something hanging above where the Italian was standing. "Romano, nos hemos olvidado de una importante tradicin de la Navidad." he said before kissing the Italian on the back of the neck. "Usted est de pie bajo la misteltoe..." Romano blushed a deep crismon color, stuttering. "I-I . . ." He turned facing the other, his curl twitched, as he stared up at the other threw his lashes. "S-So? Its just a plant . . ." He shuffled.

Antonio traced the Italian's blushing cheek with his fingers before leaning closer. "Usted no desea llevar a cabo la tradicin? Eso es mala suerte, ya sabes." the Spaniard purred. His lips were centimeters from the smaller nation's but he kept still - he wanted to be given a kiss, not take one. "Aren't you the least bit superstitious, Romano?" Romano breathed deep, shivering a bit. "Antonio . . ." His eyes flutterd as he leaned up on his toes, and softly pressed his lips to the other's. He wrapped one arm around the other's waist to steady himself.

'Mi maravilloso poco Romano...' Antonio wrapped his own arm around the Italian and kissed him deeply. When they finally pulled apart the smaller nation was flushed and gasping for breath, held up by the Spaniard's supporting arm. "Gracias, amor mo. You taste sweeter than my cookies." Lovino bite his lip, nuzzling into the elder nation's neck. "I'm surprised I don't taste bitter." The shorter nation snorted, "Ti sapore perfezione, amore mio." He pulled back away, turing back to the cookies and reached over them, to grab one of the extra tomatos, and bite into it. "I'm staying the night, corretto?" Antonio grinned happily and snuggled the younger nation. "Ah! Romano is being so cute today! Es un milagro de Navidad!" the brunette exclaimed as he held the Italian close. "You can stay if you want! You're always welcome here, s?"

The shorter, flustered, trying to wriggle away from the other, embrassed that he was called out on his soft demeanor. "Ah! Stupid Tomato Bastsard! Your gonna smush the tomato!" He exclaimed, squriming to free the fruit from inbetween them, before it was pulverized. Antonio grabbed the fruit and moved it from between them. "Better? And you should know better than to say that - it's a crime to crush a tomato without cause!" The Spaniard took a bite from the plump red fruit himself, savoring the flavor. "Ah, I remember when I first gave you a tomato...you loved them instantly! Far more than Feli, too. It must be destiny, no?"

"Your brain must be wacked!" He shouted, grabbing the tomato back and finishing it, "You brought them back and i refused to eat them for years, only becuase you brought them from the 'new world' and i was upset that you left me alone." He chuckled, remebering how he always sneaked them to his room anyway, "And of course I like them more than my stupid little brother, he is to busy eating wurst and other unmentionables . . ."

"Really? You didn't like them at all? I guess it must have been a rat sneaking off with them back then." The Spaniard kissed the younger nation's forehead and kept him close. "Besides...it was too dangerous for you on the sea back then. Battles were common, and you could have been hurt." he murmured, squeezing slightly. "I hated leaving, but I never regretted leaving you if you were safe."

Lovino felt something strange swell within him, but he pushed it down sharply, "Bull. You hated me back then. You were always trying to switch me with my brother from that bitch Austria. You never took me, 'cause you didn't want to damage your merchandise. Especially after that bastard france and The fucker turkey tried to get thier hands on me. I don't want any of that, 'I wanted you safe' bullshit. I don't need it right now, I'm in a good mood." Spain's expression fell at the accusation, and his grip loosened slightly. "I never could hate you, Romano. There were so many battles back then...England could have attacked at any time, and I couldn't risk having you on board! Yes, you did damage things when you were younger, but did I ever really have a problem with that?" he asked, coaxing the smaller nation. "The Armada days were hard, mi amor. Te amo, Romano..."

Romano turned his face away, head high mouth in a thin pressed line. "If you never hated me, why did you try to switch me out? And you didn't just do it once! If you never did hate me, then why was I always compared to the little Bitch who just seemed to get everything? Why did I always fall short?" his voice was steady, no real emtion behind it besides the morbid curiosity. His body though betrayed him, in the certain ways it tensed and twitched, they way many emotions flickered over his eyes, before they becoame guarded, and unreadable.

"Lovi...I may have treated you poorly when you were younger, but I never hated you...hasta me senta celoso de Austria. Italia era tan dulce y feliz, y tu que estaban molestos siempre conmigo. Yo nunca entend por qu volviste, si no estaban contentos." he finished, a sad tone in his voice. "I thought you would be happier."

"I came back becuase . . . Because . . ." The younger stuttered, now thinking about it, he had no reason to tell. He was always drawn to the Spainard, they way he was patiant and kind with him. He knew deep down it was becuase he honestly had no one else to go to. He abused this man relentlessly and yet he still treated him as if he was the most precious thing in the world. Lovi didn't understand it, and frankly he didn't want to. "I came back . . . Because I've always loved you. Idiot." "You...you really..." Antonio was honestly surprised, and it showed. Romano hadn't been so open with him...ever, if he was honest. "Ah, mi amor...mi bella, el amor perfecto, poco increble!" he whispered passionately, catching the Italian up in a kiss. Hearing such an honest confession of love had excited him and he wanted to be close to his lover.

The italian squeaked and froze at first, before quickly reliqueshing into the kiss, and kissing back with an equal passion. "Antonio. . . Ti amo, per sempre e sempre, per favore. . ." He ran a hand threw the others hair, shifting so they were closer, he looked up as if unsure, and a blush renewed on his cheeks, "Voglio che tu mi porti. . ." Spain eagerly complied, lifting the smaller nation up and carrying him upstairs. "Ah, amor, lo que quieras...todo...te amo tanto..." he murmured as he laid the other down on their bed, kissing his neck and pressing him into the mattress with his body.

Romano grunted, and nipped back at the other, sucking on his ear, his arms wrappign tight and him. "A-ahh Spagna! Te amo . . ." he murmered back, pressing his body up and almost grinding it against the other. Antonio started unbuttoning the other's jeans before he slid his hand inside of the denim to rub the Italian's arousal. "Mi amor...Romano..." The Spaniard nuzzled his neck and let his free hand wander up his shirt, stroking the peaked nipples. "Tell me, amor. Tell me what you want me to do..."

He garsped, arching into the grip, his hands tightening thier hold, "I-I . . . I want you to touch me, to taste, to kiss! I-I I want you to know every part of me, like its your own . . . " He groaned, his head rolling back, "Por favor, Spagna!"  
Antonio didn't answer but stripped Romano's shirt off and kissed his way down his body. He made sure that his lips covered every inch of skin, his tongue and teeth exploring every dip and rise in the pale skin. His hands slipped the jeans off of the lithe body - Spain licked his lips at the sight of the exposed skin displayed for him.

One look into spain's eyes, that lust settled in them, was enough to drive Romano. He moaned, staring right back to the other, panting himself. He brought his right lag up and hooked it around the brunette, drawing and locking himself in closer. Spain stripped off his own shirt before allowing himself to be drawn down to his lover. "Gracias a Dios...gracias a Dios que volviste..." the brunette murmured reverantly, nipping his way down the Italian's raised thigh. He finally reached his cock and kissed the tip before gently nibbling at the foreskin stretched around the swollen flesh. "Mi hermoso ngel..."

Romano blushed, his hips twitching toward the other, "A-Ah! Spagna . . . D-Don't say such things . . ." His half hearted complaint fliterd out to a moan as the spainaird continued his actions. Lovi shut his eyes tight, gasping and allowing himself to be completly taken away by the other's passion. Spain watched his lover with hooded eyes, his own cock straining against the zipper of his pants. The Italian was beautiful like this - spread out, wanting him...admitting he wanted him...it was enough to drive the Spaniard mad. "Y por qu no?" he asked huskily. "Imagnese si usted no vuelve a m cada vez que...yo estara tan sola sin mi precioso Romano..." he purred before sucking the smaller nation's cock into his mouth hungrily.

Romano gasped and bucked slightly. "Ah! Spagna! M-more . . ." He whimpered out, gripping the sheets in his one hand, the other tangled into the chocolate brown locks. "Mmmm, Spagna. . . Sar sempre tornare a voi. Sempre e per sempre." He whispered, His eyes deep and sincere.

The Spaniard groaned around swollen prick, his own length throbbing at the words. With a wet pop he pulled off of the cock as he slid his hands down to undo his pants. "Ah...mi amor, mi amor, sabes lo cmo estas palabras me hacen..." he groaned as he freed his erection. He fully stripped himself before returning to his lover, kissing his chest and suckling his peaked nipples. "Incluso despus de tantos siglos...mira lo que me haces..." Romano blushed, moaning deep in his throat, "Non posso farne a meno. Mi piace far vi piace questo. ." He muttered devilishly. He brought his left knee up and grind it against his lover, and moved his own hands to spain's arms, and squeezed.

The Spaniard purred and moved up until he was hovering just over his lover. "Yes, I know you do...lovely little tease that you are..." he murmured in return. His lips pressed firmly against the Italian's then, Antonio thrust his tongue into the wicked little mouth and teased it into playing. His hands moved down the smaller body, exploring and conquering the form under his own. His right hand caught both of their cocks together and stroked firmly as the other went farther to play with the younger nation's hole.

Romano moaned and writhed underneath Spain, kissing back with equal force and passion. He bucked hips into the hand surrounding him, and still thrusted them back towards the finger teasing him. The Spaniard broke the kiss to trail nips and kisses down the Italian's torso, leaving love bites on the soft skin. He skipped the straining erection to move farther down and smiled when he could see his lover's entrance. "Aun cuando usted no es honesto conmigo, tu cuerpo dice la verdad. Parece que me quiere en el interior..." the brunette murmured silkily before kissing the area. At the moan his lover gave, Antonio pressed his tongue against the entrance with his finger, pushing inside.

Lovino gasped loudly, aeching up and accidently forcing the finger farther inside. "AH! N-No! Non farlo! Quello grave. . . Ma ci si sente cos bene. . . Non farlo. . . Oh mio dio non si fermano!" He moaned out, his face blushing red, darker than the tomato shade he was use to. Spain held back a laugh at his lover's reaction before slipping in a second finger. He scissored the digits to stretch the Italian, his tongue delving deeper inside of Romano. His free hand reached up to stroke the younger nation's swollen cock. "*P'ro n' qu'r's que e' gu'o a 'odo' us'ede', 'mano?" he mumbled against the hole, vibrations running into the Italian. (*'Pero no quieres que el gusto a todos ustedes, Romano?')

Romano moaned, his italian language gushing out of hiim in nonsensical streams of words. He writhed and turned, bucking and groaning. "A-ahhh! Please! Spanga!" Antonio quickly pressed a third finger inside of the Italian and withdrew his thrusting tongue in favor of moving up to suck the smaller nation's cock into his mouth. His head bobbing along the length, he paused to nibble softly at the tip and roll the Italian's sack in his hand. 'Ah, he's so gorgeous like this...'

The younger flailed, spazzing and tensing, his body going wild with pleasure as he was redused to begging. "PLease, Please, Por favor, Antonio, voy a hacer nada, slo por favor, llvame! Tengo que sentir dentro de m. . ." Spain pulled off of the erection with a wet pop before crawling predatorily up his lover's body. "Diablillo travieso...usted sabe cmo yo es emociona..." he moaned appreciatively at the Italian's language choice. Antonio encouraged the younger nation to wrap his legs around the Spaniard's waist as he lined the head of his cock up. Sucking Romano's curl into his mouth, Antonio thrust into his lover, moaning as the muscles gripped him.

Romano sceamed burring his face into the neck of the older nation, he whimpered, tightening his legs trying to push against the other. "Spanga! M-Move! Move, please move!" Voy a seguir hablando, solo, por favor, simplemente para mantener en marcha! Ooooohhh Dios! Uf, vaya, vaya!" "No te preocupes amor...usted no hace falta que me por piden esto, Romano, nunca..." the Spaniard murmured around the hair in his mouth, his hips thrusting against the Italian's. "Te amo, Romano...t-ti amo." Antonio moaned as he angled to hit his lover's 'special spot.'

Romano chuckled, he nibbled on the spainard's ear, panting heavily, "Anch'io ti amo. . . Uff! Proprio l! ancora una volta, per favore, di nuovo!" He cried out, thrusting his hips back into his lovers, his hands wrapping around the other's neck and shoulder's, accidently clawing him. Spain eagerly complied, driving faster into his lover. "Cualquier cosa...cualquier cosa para usted!" Antonio grunted lowly as he nearly pulled out of the Italian before plunging back inside as deeply as he could. "Tan bella...tan bella, Romano..."

Romno fell back writhing in pleasure, his hands twisting in the sheets, almost ripping them with the tightness of his fist. "Fuck! Spagna! Oh god, yes, yes!" He closed his eyes tight, reveling in the pleasure washing over him in waves.  
Antonio let the curl free from his mouth and instead pressed his lips against the Italian's. "Nnnggh...Romano! Mi perfecto Romano..." he moaned as he moved inside of his lover. "Ha sido demasiado tiempo...se siente tan maravilloso...maldita sea, ya estoy cerca-!" The Spaniard could feel his release building and quickened his thrusts, grabbing his lover's cock and stroking it in time.

Romano grunted, n nodded, panting and thrusting up into the hand. "M-Me too, god Spagna I'm so mother fucking close!" he cried grabbing the other again hard enough to bruise. "Fuck! Please, Please, so close!"  
The Spaniard growled and gripped his lover's throbbing prick harder, the friction driving the Italian mad. "I...I don't think I can-!" Antonio suddenly arched his back and slammed his hips into Romano's as his orgasm hit him. "Ngh...Romano! Romano!" he moaned, his seed filling the Italian. Spain's hand pumped his lover's cock furiously to help him finish.

Romano screamed as he came, cumming hard on spain's hand and squirting up his own chest, "Fuuuck . . ." he breathed, pulling the spainard next to him and snuggling up tight to him. "I love you, love you, love you." Antonio wrapped his arms tightly around the other and kissed him softly, blissfull basking in their afterglow. "Love you too, Lovi...so much...love you more than anything." he returned softly as he held him close. "Mi ngel perfecto." Spain sighed happily as they cuddled.

He tucked his head underneath the other's chin, a sad glossy look came over his eyes before he closed them 'nd lightly shhook his head and smiled, burring his head into Toni's neck. " 'M not perfect . . ." he yawned.  
The Spaniard relished the contact - Romano had been so distant lately, and the sudden affection was like an oasis for him. "Nothing is better than Romano. Not even tomatoes..." he murmured sleepily, a smile on his face. He drifted off to sleep with the Italian next to him, content.


End file.
